Estrangement
by tarajcl
Summary: HexadecimalMegabyte. Destroying Mainframe is function. Destroying one another is fun. viral relations for the eyebrowraise. Inspired by RebeccaH.


Disclaimer: Reboot is not mine, nor are quotes from Taratino movies. Inspired by RebeccaH's awesome 'He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not.' READ IT FIRST, PEONS.

Summary: Series of shorts, some of them AU, taking place at different times in the seasons. Hexadecimal/Megabyte, Hexadecimal/Bob.

Warnings: Tense changes, Reboot time measurements, incest, racism, violence. They're viruses, what do you expect?

**Estrangement**

"**You may find it a bit lonely on my side."**

"**Your side always was a bit lonely, but I wouldn't sit anywhere else."**

**9. bob**

They lay among the data clouds that covered Mainframe, watching the city down below and sometimes throwing things down at it. It was a compulsion.

"He loves me," she exulted in passing, pressing her hands up to catch a falling fraction, transforming it into a yellow flower with a wave of her hand.

Megabyte intoned, with an air of having explained this many times before (although he hadn't), "He_ cannot_ love a thing that does not love."

"Oh, fool…it is perfectly possible for sprites to adore sprites who do not adore them."

She made patterns in the clouds while he watched.

"Dear sibling...you are not a sprite. And no sprite would love another sprite who loved nothing whatsoever, it would invalidate the point of their being a sprite. You are a virus; you love nothing. So."

"Don't be redundant, dear one. The principles remain the same. And he does not understand, all else besides. For all he is aware, I love him as much as his unpleasant manager does."

They called each other by endearments, sometimes, because it was amusing to play at affecion. At least, that was what he had always presumed.

"He is not an idiot, Hexadecimal, unlike some I could mention. And not everything you do is excusable by your insanity."

She flipped to one of her more sinister smiles. "Darling brother, what he fails to understand is that I am no more insane than _you_ are."

"I'm not going to talk to you if you're only going to be ridiculous."

She sighed, with an air of having explained this many times before (which she had.) "You are Order incarnate. I am the incarnation of Chaos, and thus must be mad."

She flipped to a sharply-fanged war mask with blood decorating its lips. _"Not chaos incarnate **because** I am mad!"_

Megabyte did not like talking to his sister, but had to, because she was the only one. He could only sustain maybe ten nanoseconds of discussion with Bob, before he felt it necessary to make some perfunctory attempt on his life, and neither Dot nor Phong would give anything beyond monosyllabic responses. The rest were all binomes, and thus, to his mind, so inferior as to be discounted.

"Besides, darling sister," he said, returning to the topic at hand before she turned violent, "his affections are fully captured by Miss Dot, as you are well aware."

"Bah. He may not _want_ me, but he_ loves_ me."

00000000000000000

Megabyte examined his reflection in a mirror held up by one of his tentacles. The reflection was fragmented, which he attributed to some obscure facet of Trojan Horse coding.

"He loves what he made you," he pointed out quietly, to an otherwise empty command centre.

Her laughter haunted his mind. "Yes, dear brother, but you didn't even love that."

**8. accomplice**

Dot Matrix placed her glasses high up on her nose and levelled a look at him. She had a clipboard under one arm.

"Megabyte. I'm here to negotiate the release of Guardian 465, AKA Bob, abducted by yourself at three clicks this afternoon."

It always amused Megabyte that he and Dot Matrix shared a father. A father who, sadly enough, was currently being bathed and polished by the doctor before Hack and Slash took him for a walk.

She would make, he thought, an excellent sibling; far superior to his current model. He tried desperately to ignore the strident voice howling down from above him.

"Ms. Matrix," he mumured. "You will have to forgive my pointing it out, but you will find negotiation rather difficult, given that you have no bargaining platform whatsoever. Unless Bob stole something from me before his capture, which I am quite sure he did not. Would you like to come in?"

Of course, replacing Hexadecimal with Ms. Matrix would require his acknowledging Enzo as a relation, and he didn't think he could stomach that.

"On the contrary, Megabyte. And thank you, but no. Our platform is based on our working together to achieve our interests."

"You will surrender the Principal Office to me and I will surrender your guardian?"

"You will surrender Bob to us, Megabyte, and I will convince Hexadecimal to stop singing on top of the Torr."

The high, warbling notes filled the silence.

"Ms. Matrix, there is no power in the Net strong enough to persuade my sister of anything. You should be aware of this by now."

"I convince Bob to do what I want every second of my existence, Megabyte. Do not underestimate the negotiating prowess of Mainframe."

Yes, she would have made an excellent accomplice.

"As you will. The stairs are on the left; you have fifteen nanoseconds. Oh, Ms Matrix? Bob is suspended over a pool of raw energy that I just filled with starving nulls. Do hurry."

**7. sprite**

They gave her a new face, but he knows what she really looks like.

"I cannot help but feel that this is extremely unnecessary," Megabyte murmured as he swayed from side to side.

"Oh, tut, dear brother. I simply needs to make these bonds a leeetle tighter…"

The cords relaxed and rewound themselves around his arms and ankles, not quite giving him enough time to unsheathe his claws. He should have foreseen this eventuality. If he had, perhaps being tied up, upside down and watching his conquest crumble before him would not sting quite so much.

He should have fixed her face, Megabyte thought. He was certain that that was the problem.

"I'm not going to say that I didn't mind the collar and bondage, dearest," she sang from behind him, "although…"

She darted in front of his face, with a smile stretching- _moving_- out and upwards, as if to tear her new sprite complexion in two.

"…your minion has amusing taste. Nor am I going to pretend that I wasn't angry when you didn't remake my face…"

But of course, he thought, gratified that he had seen it coming. But there was, apparently, still more, and a cold digit pressed against his jaw line.

"…or when you kept me inside your silly little fortress for so very long…"

It pressed harder; he felt the volatile data lines that made up his skin begin to give.

"…or when you kept me on a leash like some pathetic null PET…"

The digit moved off, he had the impression of moving air and her slight, slender hand came down upon him, nearly tearing off the bottom of his face. As it was, he howled and jerked as teeth scattered.

"…but it's alright now."

She moved slowly before him.

He blinked, trying to refocus his vision. "Oh, is that what it is? Forgive me, Hexadecimal, it simply didn't occur that you would still be upset over that little episode."

She hit him again, harder. He was not going to say that he enjoyed her anger, but it did, at least, let him know that this was truly his sister and not some random sprite.

"I'll let you go," she whispered suddenly, ducking down to press her sprite body against his back. "If you tell me that I'm pretty."

She touched his crest delicately, with gentle digits poised to dive directly into the base of his cranium, and leant her head against his. "Hmm?"

He did not make an attempt to look at her, but shut his eyes and smiled. It felt as rigid as one of her old masks. "My dear, you know I've always thought you looked lovely."

"I know you have. But what, dearest darling, do you think of me **now?"**

The lightening against his neck was not enjoyable. Her skin, by comparson, felt soft and flexible, and he wanted desperately to try and claw it off. "You're... very pretty."

"No, I didn't think so," she sighed, pressed an ice-cold kiss against his head and shut the door behind her as she went. He wondered how long it would be before it opened again.

**6. appreciation**

"This...this is great, Hexa...ma'am. But I really need to get going."

She frowned, a mask with a tear drop on one side. "Sit down, boy. Why, there's no rush! See, I've made you cookies. And milk."

The milk was pretty definately something he wasn't allowed to drink until he'd had seven more upgrades. A dreadul conviction that the innocent tray in front of him had baked null on it made Enzo shake his head and glance at the clock. Not that Hexadecimal's clock was useful; it had pictures of jewels and flowers in place of numbers.

"Tell me, boy, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

He sighed. "I've told you. I want to..."

"Yes, fine, lovely. Boy, look at this one now."

The viewscreen displayed a huge ornate fountain in the centre of Lost Angles, with energy...no, spam, he was right the first time, with _nulls_ pouring out of the top.

"It's...nice?"

The doors were flung open and he was actually relieved when Megabyte strode in. "Hexadecimal? I need a word."

He looked around the tangled and twisted shapes that made up his siter's lair with obvious distaste, and stopped when he saw Enzo.

Dropping a cookie on Scuzzy's head, Hexadecimal scowled. "Go away. I'm entertaining company."

Enzo cringed as Megabyte looked at him.

"Ah, young Enzo. Are you keeping well?"

Viruses were just creepy when they tried to be polite. It was like they didn't even know how real people talked. Why didn't Bob ever get into _this_ kind of trouble?

"Yeah, but I've really, really got to..."

"You're frightening the boy," she snarled, coming to stand in front of him with a flask of definately not milk in one hand and an energy sphere in the other.

"I BEG you pardon? What in the Net gave you the impression..."

He slipped out quietly while they argued, and was at his board by the time the first explosion was heard throughout Mainframe. No doubt about it. When Hex had first gotten into building design in a big way, he should never have said that the bridge looked pretty in blue.

**5. gigabyte**

When he dreams, he remembers when they were the Totality, all-powerful and unstoppable. He can feel the touch of her fury and delight in destruction, coiled deep within himself and he can smell the city of Lost Angles as it was incinerated.

He can see the remains of the Totality hissing and bubbling on the ground, as the strain splits itself, and two shapeless figures emerge from the steam. Now they are distinct, colours sliding into place as their codes complete themselves. Now they open their eyes, and turn sharply to regard one another with curiosity.

"I am become...what?"

"Hexadecimal."

"Megabyte."

Now, the first word out of his mouth is her name, and their functions begin to blossom in them. It is an uncomfortable and strange sensation, to be close close to another partof him, almost like he imagines infection must feel. Now that _he_ is not _her_, and they are not _it_, he is one of her targets.

But the same applies in reverse. When he wakes up, he reminds himself to destroy her as soon as possible, and does his best to preoccupy his mind for the rest of the day.

She does not dream. Ever.

**4. experiment**

"You don't have to do this," he chuckled awkwardly, trying to make it sound like Please, do not do this.

"Hush. Anything for you, Bob."

When Hexadecimal had taken it into her head to start being helpful, he had been cautiously optimistic. He hadn't thought she'd start by relentlessly repairing every broken thing he owned, right down to the hole in his jumpsuit. (The jumpsuit he'd been_ wearing_ at the exact moment she decided that the hole needed repairing. Explaining that to Mouse had been a treat, it really had.)

"It's a new model. I only upgraded it a few minutes ago, so you might find..."

He wondered what the funny orange glow beneath the hood was, caught on and flung himself behind the nearest wall. For several milliseconds after the explosion, he breathed in and out, reminding himself that material goods were nothing in the face of true friendship.

"All done!"

He peaked out. Hexadecimal lay across the hood of his car- which was both completely not blown up and purring like Scuzzy.

"How did you..."

"Tricks of the trade, Bob," and all of a sudden she was fingering lock of his hair.

He smiled and leaned back. He liked Hex. He just didn't like it when she leaned in quite so close. She probably didn't see it as sexual harassment- she probably didn't even know what that meant- but Dot did, and she was waiting inside the control room with twenty armed binomes and and an experimental BFG. And it wasn't a guitar this time.

**3. enlightenment**

She is the engine of their destruction.

It cannot be _his _fault, because he is unchanging. Always repetitive, always the same, always predictable. He has often thought of them as puzzle pieces. Separate, but designed to fit exactly when put together. She has never really thought of_ them_, only thought of _him._ That is where he thinks the flaw began to creep in. He is control, she is disorder, but they are losing that perfect symmetry.

He realises that it is not her fault. Because the nature of disorder is be to be unpredictable, even if that means becoming unpredictably predictable. But it _must_ be her fault, because it cannot be his. Why would he want to destroy them?

"One of these days I'm going to delete you," he tells her offhandedly, and twists Nibbles like a slinky when she flicks his nose.

**2. proskynesis**

She doesn't forget him, but only because she never forgets anything and really, there are so many more interesting things to think about now.

She murmurs to herself, twisting a paintbrush in ink and watching Matrix kiss AndrAIa on her viewscreen, "One of these days I'm going to start missing you. Hm. That will be fun."

She never gets the chance, but doesn't regret it.

**1. conversion**

He lies still amid the asteroid's rubble until the exact second her teeth brush against his cheek. He shoots up gasping, every poison-data muscle screaming at the sudden movement after so many seconds of inactivity.

His eyes focus on the red little light in front of them, and he winces; he's become accustomed to the darkness.

But he follows it to the entrance of the cave, and even follows it cautiously outside- mostly because he is horribly bored and if it is a web-creature trap, it is the most interesting one he has seen so far. The Web is so full of chaos that it blurs and becomes a dull mass. Predictable, he thinks.

The light is growing brighter, showing up every stone and skeleton that he's amassed on his little asteroid in the last few days, until it twists into a form that he recognises.

Surprisingly, he finds himself understanding right away. "Ah. You're dead," he mutters.

"Dying. Fragmented. Spreading throughout the Net like you wanted your viral army to."

She always did have a way of getting under his skin. Which isn't skin anymore so much as armoured scales, but the point remains.

"Might I know how?"

She waves her hand. "Oh, some inconsequential young thing. I was teaching her a lesson. You would have liked her, actually. Well. Possibly not, she was a trifle delusional."

"Oh."

He feels…heavy. It's the first emotion he's had the energy to feel for some time, so he is glad of it. He supposes.

"Well. Decent of you to say goodbye, I imagine. I wouldn't have thought that you'd care to, given our last parting."

"Pssht. I've forgiven that, dear one. I _am_ a merciful goddess, you know."

She crosses out the words with a dark chuckle. "And the reason I'm here is to give you a present."

Extraordinary; she's slipping away and becoming more insubstantial with every passing nanosecond, but that sentence still makes him worry.

"What sort of…"

She holds him in place with one immeasurably powerful hand, and presses her fingertips to his forehead while her lips touch his mouth. He doesn't even bother struggling; his sister will do as she will, and he will work against the consequences, as always. Tentacles twitching, he feels something being downloaded into his code, despite the numerous mutations and broken lines it has to work through.

"My final gift to you. By the way, dear brother, I have discovered that you were entirely wrong. You see, I love _you._ **So there**," she says, smirks like its an achievement on her part, and fragments into more pieces than he can count. The rest is silence.

"Delusional," he mutters. Nanoseconds later, he stares at the blue face in the reflective asteroid rock and wonders what his mad sister saw in either of them. Then he crouches low, and begins practising Bob's smile.

"**Could you do what you did? Of course you could. But I never thought that you could or would do it to me."**


End file.
